fighting unashamed

Tonight I stroke my own hair and rock back and forth slightly.
I am fighting. I’m not afraid to say that stroking my own hair and rocking is a form of self-care to me. It calms me. Makes me feel a little okay. Fights the bad thoughts.

I have googled “define: manic” 10 times.

Tonight I didn’t say “no” when I needed space to feel sad and try to make myself feel better. I should have said no. I need to practice. I wrote a note to myself on Facebook. I suppose not only for me, but for anyone else who needed a reminder.

I am exhausted but I cannot sleep. I look forward to tomorrow when I get to puppy sit my brother’s dog and I can pet this small comforting creature and tell him my troubles if I want. I’m not afraid to say that I think animals are all-knowing…..

Especially dogs. They have deep caring eyes and hearts bigger than this entire earth. I had a dog…or four in my entire 25 years of life… who were there for me. When no one else was. They know. They know when you are sad…. hurting… they know. They are so ….so entirely important to our existence. Our humanity.

And I know that giving my hurt and worries to God should be enough. I know. But God can’t look me in the eyes and make me feel like I’ll be okay right now. And I suppose I might be a little greedy for wanting that…. No. That’s a negative thought. I am not greedy. I know what I need. He does too.

I feel better now..writing this. I always feel better after writing. Its good for me to do this.



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